


A Spectacle of Vice (and Virtue)

by Curiorex



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Beta'd, Eventual Happy Ending, He needs love, M/M, No Magic AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, circus AU, everyone works at the circus except for credence, his life is still Sad, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11821620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curiorex/pseuds/Curiorex
Summary: Mother said that the circus was a den of sin that seduced young folk to its wicked ways, and that's what Credence believed. Until a freckled animal tamer turns Credence's thoughts upside down. Maybe, this time, Mother is wrong.





	A Spectacle of Vice (and Virtue)

**Author's Note:**

> I heard something about the second movie having a circus but that was after i started writing this lol so this has nothing to do with that. I just wanted to write a Crewt AU. I've planned out three chapters, but I might add an epilogue.

On the outer edge of town, it rose like the dead. One day the field was empty for everything but bees and brown-eyed-susans, the next it was bursting with colossal tents and colorful banners and gaudy signs. And when night fell, the city of canvas came alive with hundreds of electric lights so that if you saw it from beyond the hill it hid behind, you might mistake it for a sunrise. Its music swelled and danced in the still air, bringing life to the bleak township. It was a festive siren song that beckoned with each clear note.

Credence did what he always did when he was tempted and tried his very best to ignore it. The circus promised wonders and horrors beyond anything he had ever seen. Mother said it was a nest of sin, where the worst kinds of debauchery festered and seduced naive young folk.

Credence ignored its sweet call, focusing instead on the way the pamphlets irritated the welts and cuts on his hands, the way the damp grass clung to his shoes as he shifted in place, the sound of his mother’s preaching. 

“They are witches! Do not fall prey to their charms! They will lead you into sin and depravity. Do not pledge yourself to their altar of hedonism and vice!” She yelled from atop a box to Credence’s right.

Credence held out fliers to the people that rushed past him, avoiding their eyes. He didn't need to look to know how they saw him: a creepy weirdo who should be locked up in the freak show rather than handing out stupid pamphlets that no one would read.

The crowd trickled away as the main act began. Credence felt his mother’s eyes shift from the last few stragglers to him. He unconsciously gripped the stack of leftover leaflets tighter, hard enough to reopen one of his cuts.

“Credence, every person who you have let enter that hellish circus is one more soul lost from God. I am _very_ disappointed in you.” She sneered. Credence knew well what her disappointment meant. His hands shook at the thought. He could only hope she would avoid his back so that he might actually sleep tonight.

Chastity and Modesty glanced at him with pity. They both clutched leftover pamphlets as well, but Mother ignored it. She always ignored it. 

Mother briskly turned and strode away towards the town, the girls in step behind her. Credence fought back tears as he followed slowly, dutifully ignoring the warbling music behind him.

* * *

Mother had not avoided his back. The pain was a familiar one, but it didn't make it any better. He shifted to his left side, trying in vain to lessen the sharp sting. 

He probably deserved it. It was his fault for being disobedient. _Insolent child_. He had been tempted by sin, and mother’s punishment was necessary to keep him in line. Without it he would succumb to all sorts of sinful feelings. _Abomination_. The pain was horrible, but it served a purpose. _Filth._

Credence clutched his head and curled tighter in on himself. He wanted nothing more than to dig his fingers through his skull and stop all the thoughts and words burning there. The walls of his cramped room shrank in, crowding him into his own skull. His breath grew short and he just needed to _get out_.

As quietly as he could, he slipped on his shoes and coat and sneaked out of his room and down the hall. Carefully avoiding the third step, which creaked loud enough to wake the house, he made his way down the stairs and through the old church until he finally reached the back door, which didn't squeal quite as much as the front.

The night air was cold and sobering. Credence felt himself relax as the wind softly teased his hair and cooled his aching skin. The silence was a comfort after the shrieking in his head. It was different from the judging silence of the church, which made Credence feel as if the eyes of God were watching his every move. This silence was different, full of the not-quite-sounds of the nocturnal creatures living out their little lives. It made him feel like just another creature in the darkness, free of guilt and sin.

He gingerly lowered himself onto the stoop and gazed out into the meadow that spread out from the sparse buildings that hugged the edge of town. A faint light could still be seen in the distance, proof that the circus never slept. With the church to his back it felt peaceful, as if the entire world were just a grassy field and an endless sky and the distant glow of wonder and intrigue. There was no controlling mother or creepy church or indifferent town.

Credence was startled by the feeling of something pressing into his leg. A cat, invisible in the dark except for the yellow gleam of its eyes, was brushing up against him.

Hesitantly, Credence reached out to stroke its silky fur. It let out a deep rumbling purr. Credence slid his hand down to pet the creature’s back and it dutifully stepped forward onto his lap to give him better access. Its eyes blinked slowly.

He didn't know how long he sat there petting the cat, but he soon became keenly aware of the collar ringing its neck. Someone would be missing it, and if they happened upon Credence with it, they might accuse him of stealing it. Mother would be angry.

That thought alone was enough to make Credence awkwardly twist the collar around to try to read the tags. It was difficult to make out the letters in the frail moonlight, but after a moment Credence managed.

“IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN TO THE GOLDSTEIN CIRCUS” was stamped into the cheap metal. 

Credence’s stomach sank. He shoved the cat off his lap and backed up until his back hit the wall, tearing open some of his newly healing cuts. A black cat from that devilish circus could only mean one thing. Mother always said that witches had familiars, beasts meant to facilitate a witch’s hellish agenda. It was probably here to tempt him away.

But what if it wasn't? What if it was just a cat that belonged to the circus? What if someone was missing it? It was a very sweet cat.

The cat, recovered from its sudden displacement, resumed its previous goal of getting Credence to give it as much love as possible. Credence shrank away from it.

On one hand, it could be a trap to turn him to sin. On the other, it could simply be a lost pet. Either way, mother would be angry at him for even considering returning it.

The cat looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Slowly, he unfurled and cautiously scratched behind its ears. It pushed into his hand, needy for affection. How could he just leave it to the elements?

Scooping the cat up, Credence forced himself to his feet. His back protested the sudden movement and he tripped on the stoop, nearly throwing the cat to the ground. It dug its claws into his coat, ripping little holes in the threadbare fabric. He clutched it close and trudged through the damp grass toward the faint light in the distance. 

The cat nuzzled into his neck and pawed at his hand. Credence unconsciously leaned his face toward it, letting it rub against him. It really was a sweet creature.

The circus was eerie up close this late at night. There were still people milling around, but most of the lights had been extinguished and there was no cheerful music playing. Performers and freaks had been replaced with normal people doing normal things. Two men were playing cards in the shadow of one of the carnival games, and a woman with gaudy makeup smeared across her face was taking a long drag on a cigarette by the popcorn machine. It was much less threatening now that the magical splendor had been stripped away, leaving only the skeleton of the place.

Hidden out of sight by one of the tents, Credence gingerly set down the animal. He turned to walk away, only to trip over a blurry black shape twining around his legs. He glared at the cat’s smug face. 

“Shoo! Go back to your owner, or whoever it is that feeds you.” He sternly whispered. The creature ignored him. He sighed.

Credence scooped it up and cautiously made his way among the tents, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the few lone souls that hadn't retired to their beds. He wandered aimlessly, not knowing where the cat’s actual owner was, or where he could leave it so that it wouldn't follow him.

After a tense few minutes of sneaking around, Credence spotted a large tent that read “NEWT SCAMANDER’S FANTASTIC MENAGERIE AND PETTING ZOO” in big bold letters. If there was a place to leave an animal, that seemed like it would be it. At the very least, there was probably an empty cage or something he could leave the cat in for someone to find.

The tent was pitch black inside, and Credence very slowly felt his way through the dark. He could hear the sounds of creatures moving around somewhere off in the tent, and he tried not to think about what would happen if any of them were loose. If he got hurt, mother would notice and start asking questions. She was scarier than any animal that could possibly be lurking.

Credence startled as his foot made very loud contact with a metal bucket. Several animals growled and hissed from seemingly all around him. “Who’s there?” A man’s voice shouted from somewhere in front of him.

From within the shadowy recesses of the tent, the dim light of a lantern was quickly approaching. A young man, with messy auburn curls and more freckles than Credence had ever seen on a person, held the lantern aloft as he rushed towards where Credence stood cradling the cat. Credence hunched his shoulders and shielded the cat with his body to protect it from the blow that the freckled man was most likely going to inflict on Credence for trespassing so late.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? And what are you doing with Niffler? I will not permit anyone to harm my animals, hand him over.” The strange man said, reaching for the cat with his free hand. He had an odd accent, one Credence hadn't heard before.

Credence, confused for multiple reasons, let the man take it. “My name is Credence Barebone and I only came to return your cat, sir. He showed up on my doorstep and I thought it would be best to bring him back. I'm very sorry for disturbing you.” He mumbled, turning to go. What was he thinking, barging into the circus in the middle of the night. This man was just trying to get some rest, and Credence trespassed in his tent and made a huge ruckus. And, if mother found out, he would be severely punished. _Stupid, stupid boy._

“Niffler, what have I told you about wandering off? Next I'm going to hear you've been skulking around Queenie’s jewelry again! I've had it up to _here_ with your mischief!” The man ranted as he grabbed the lantern and stomped off to another corner of the tent. He set the cat in a little cage, but didn't do the latch.

The man turned back to Credence. “Sorry about all the fuss, that little guy is more trouble than he's worth. I couldn't ever throw him out though-- are you alright? You look pale.” He reached out and placed a steady hand on Credence’s arm, bringing him back out of his thoughts.

God, now Credence just looked foolish. He was pathetic, making this stranger worry about nothing. He didn't deserve it. “I'm fine, sir. I'll get out of your way now, goodnight.” Before he could move away from the man, the man’s hand went from his arm to his wrist, no less comforting.

“What are these wounds? Did my Niffler do this?” His brows knit in confusion as he stared at the mottled skin of Credence's hand.

Credence looked down at where the man’s warm hand cradled his and pulled his wrist out of the man’s gentle grip. He would not think about how nice it felt to experience a kind touch, or how long it had been since he last had. “N-No sir. Just an accident, is all. Nothing for c-concern. I-I've already taken t-too much of your time. I'll, um, be going now.” Credence felt his panic bubbling and turned to leave once more.

“I have something that would help with those injuries,” the man blurted, “Really, it would be no trouble. It would only take a moment.” His eyes were pleading for Credence to stay. 

A question lingered on the tip of Credence’s tongue. _Why?_ Why was he going out of his way? Why was he showing this kindness to a total stranger? Was it some sort of repayment for finding the cat? Or was it some sort of trick, a way to draw Credence into sin?

Credence forced himself to tear his eyes away from the man’s gaze. He rushed from the tent without looking back, his eyes firmly fixed on his hands.

When he returned home to the quiet church, relieved that his mother hadn't awakened in his absence, he crawled into his too small bed in his too cold room and prayed until dawn.

* * *

The next evening saw Credence back with his mother outside the circus. He had listened to her sermons a thousand times, but it was different now, knowing that he was one of the sinners she was preaching against. He had entered the circus, albeit after hours, and been tempted by the false kindness of the strange man. Each note of the jolly music and each ray of the dazzling lights weighed on him like stones pressing into his chest.

Slowly, the hairs on his neck stood on end and he became aware of someone watching him. So that mother wouldn’t be suspicious, he turned to hand a pamphlet to a man next to him. There, standing just inside the colorful gates of the circus, was a woman dressed in a beautiful pink dress. She had glossy golden hair that caught the light just so, and her eyes seemed to stare beyond him, inexplicably sad. 

A familiar black cat rubbed against her legs, startling her out of her daze. She met Credence’s eyes, and gave him a gentle smile. They held each other's eyes for a long moment, until it was broken by her reaching down to pick up the cat, who had graduated from rubbing against her legs to pawing at her skirt in a desperate plea for attention. As she cradled it (and it made a grab for her necklace) she smiled widely and walked slowly away.

Credence hadn't noticed that mother had stopped talking. He stiffened and whipped around, before withering under her harsh glare. 

“Credence, we will have a talk when we return home.” She then turned back to the crowd lazily streaming toward the tents and resumed her speech. 

Credence shakily handed out his pamphlets.

* * *

Mother yelled for hours about temptresses and the sins of the flesh ( _dear lord if only she knew the truth and how much worse it was_ ) and added fresh wounds on top of his day-old ones. The sting followed by the relentless burning felt right, in a way. A punishment for his guilt. 

As night fell in his little room, he found himself unable to sleep. Traitorous thoughts swirled in his head, whispering sweet what-ifs about the wicked temptation that lay just across the field. He remembered the warm glint of the strange man’s eyes in the lamplight, the eerie beauty of the tents after dark, the affectionate touch of the little cat. 

He rose, ignoring his aches and sores, from his bed and crossed to the window. The last threads of sunset were settling into the horizon, lending a dusty blue haze over the meadow. It wasn't yet true night, but instead a comforting twilight. Credence loved to watch the sun set. It was a shame he always seemed to miss it.

He wouldn't venture out to the circus again. He had no reason to. Nothing good would come of it. The risk was too great and the chance of a good outcome too small. Still, he wanted. He stood for a long moment contemplating.

And what if the cat was lost again? Surely he could just go outside and check. There was a chance it had wandered back to the church. If so, Credence couldn't just leave it. The man seemed to care about it very much and would be devastated if something happened to it. An image of the man's face twisted in sadness flashed in his mind. His heart squeezed uncomfortably in his chest. It couldn't hurt to just check.

When night had well and truly fallen and Credence was sure that mother was sound asleep, he crept out into the darkness. It was pitch black, the moon hidden behind a sky full of clouds. It was only from a lifetime spent maneuvering in the dark on nights when he dare not light a lamp for fear of disturbing Mother that he made it through the church and down the back steps without incident. When he felt the grass brush against his knees, he paused to orient himself. It was easy to spot the lights of the circus, stark against the black backdrop of the night.

A soft mewling and a solid weight against his calf alerted him to the presence of Niffler. He only flinched a little, part of him expecting it to be there and another part surprised it escaped again. Regardless, it would be best to return it to the man. It was the responsible thing to do.

He knew that it wasn't necessary to hold the cat so close to him or to scratch it behind its ears or to let it cuddle into his chest. But if it brought him a little comfort, he could ignore the voice in his head that sounded a little too much like Mother. He was getting better at ignoring it.

The circus was more alive than Credence’s previous secret visit, mostly because that it wasn't even midnight yet. Even though he had already ventured in once, he found himself wary of it now. There were many more people out, laughing and drinking and having a merry time. He couldn't just stick to the shadows and avoid being seen. There were too many pairs of eyes that would judge him. Too many people to sneer. When mother was there, she commanded most of the attention. Credence was on his own now.

He hovered just outside the halo of light cast by the string of bulbs that decorated the nearest tent. He was debating trying to leave the cat there when a delicate hand settled on his arm and startled him out of his thoughts.

“Oh sorry, sugar. Didn't mean to make you jump.” The same golden haired woman who had caught his eye earlier smiled sweetly at him. There was a gentleness to her that calmed him, that made him trust her. She was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, he noted passively. “It's real kind of you to bring Niffler back. Newt’s been worried sick looking for him,” She reached over and scratched lightly at the cat’s ear. “You little rascal. One of these days he’s gonna put a leash on you and then what’ll you do? What a bad kitty you are.” 

Niffler maneuvered from Credence’s arms to the woman’s, settling nicely against her collarbone. She petted it slowly as it batted at her jewelry. 

Credence took a step back. “It was no trouble, Miss. I suppose I better go.” He said, taking another step. Calming presence or not, she was one of the wicked circus folk. His job was done and there was no reason to linger. Before he could scurry away, she caught his elbow in a gentle grip.

“Nonsense. I'm sure Newt will want to thank you himself. You can call me Queenie.” She looped her arm through his and strolled towards the maze of tents. He tried to sputter out a response, but no words came. The thought of seeing the strange man (if that's who “Newt” was) again was both terrifying and exciting. Every step was a lead weight settling into his stomach.

The few people who acknowledged them as they walked only called out a greeting to Queenie and ignored Credence completely. He didn't know whether to be grateful or self depreciating. They eventually came to the same tent that Credence had stumbled upon the previous night. Under the glow of the lights, it seemed much less ominous. Posters boasting exotic creatures from around the globe were tacked to the outer canvas of the tent, each one sporting a cheerful illustration that gave the whole thing a sense of whimsy. 

Queenie swept them through the entrance and strolled casually past the cages. Credence marveled at the animals that he had no name for, giant beasts that stared at him lazily as they passed. It took all of his willpower not to crane his neck at every single cage. They made their way to the back of the tent, where boxes of supplies (Credence assumed) sat piled high. Behind a precarious stack of crates, a man was waist deep in a large box of hay, his hips and legs hanging over the edge as he struggled.

“What a silly man.” Queenie chuckled as she released Credence’s arm and set Niffler down on the ground. “Give me a hand, won't you?” She asked as she walked over to the flailing man, who appeared to have sunk farther into the hay. She deftly grabbed one of his legs and started pulling. After a moment, a Credence rushed to join her. Several minutes, a lot of effort, and half the box’s volume of hay spilled on the floor later, the redheaded man from before sat on the ground, slightly frazzled but no worse for wear. 

“Thanks for the help. I was trying to see if Niffler had somehow gotten himself down in there, though I see now it was for nothing.” He scratched the cat as it crawled into his lap. “Where did you find him?” He asked Queenie.

“I wasn't the one who found him.” She said, turning to look at Credence, who had done a marvelous job of going unnoticed. 

Newt’s eyes widened when they landed on Credence, and Niffler gave a distressed screech as Newt hurried to his feet. A fierce blush came over his cheeks as he tried to discreetly brush some wayward straw out of hair. “I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there, Credence. It is Credence, isn't it? I never got a chance to properly thank you for finding him yesterday, and now it seems I owe you again. Thank you so much for watching out for my horrible, _horrible_ cat.” He said in a rush, holding out his hand, “My name is Newt Scamander. Pleasure to meet you.” He shook Credence’s hand with surprising gentleness.

Credence found himself blushing under the man’s intent gaze. “No t-trouble, sir. I'm glad to b-be of s-service.” He stuttered and averted his eyes as they lapsed into an awkward silence. The urge to bolt, to run from the circus and never look back buzzed beneath his skin. 

Queenie gasped. “I just had the most wonderful idea! Newt, how about me and you show Credence around? It's the least we could do.” She trilled, “If that's alright with you, Credence.” 

How could he say no when she and Newt were both looking at him with such hopeful expressions? He had barely nodded his affirmative when Queenie had her arm looped through his and he was whisked out of the tent, Newt keeping pace to his other side. 

Now that he felt he had permission, Credence marveled at the sights he saw. The acrobats tweaking their routines. The clowns, still in their costumes but sans the makeup. He even got to meet some of the folks from the freak show, who were much nicer than he had expected. All the while, Queenie and Newt shared amusing stories and explained the finer details of circus production. It was really Queenie who did most of the talking, but Newt was a comforting presence at his side nonetheless. Credence would occasionally meet his eye, and they would share small, secret smiles.

Credence learned that Queenie was the circus fortune-teller, and while the voice in his head that sounded like mother screamed “witchcraft!”, he didn't think anyone as nice as Queenie could be a witch. She and Newt were tied for the nicest person he knew, not that there was much competition.

“Credence, I'd like to introduce you to the best baker in the entire world, Mr. Jacob Kowalski.” Queenie announced as they approached what appeared to be the food carts. A jovial looking man wearing an apron looked up from where he had been wiping down one of the carts and flashed Queenie a smile.

“I don't like to brag, but I do make a mean cream puff. Nice to meet you.” He shook Credence’s hand. 

“You sell pastries here?” Credence asked timidly. He wasn't aware that they sold pastries at circuses. Wasn't it all just popcorn and hotdogs?

“No, not really. I oversee all the food vendors and fill in when one of them needs it. I'd always hoped to have my own bakery but, well, it wasn't in the cards. I do still bake when I have the time though.” He said. Queenie playfully smacked his arm.

“Now don't you go talking about cards, mister. That's my job, and they don't say anything of the sort.” She teased.

“How ‘bout I whip you guys up some cotton candy? I haven't cleaned out the machine yet.” Jacob offered. Credence’s polite refusal was drowned out by Queenie’s cheerful acceptance. They sat at one of the wooden picnic tables nearby while Jacob expertly conjured four perfect blobs of Cotton candy. He doled out the treats before sitting down next to Queenie and across from Newt. 

Credence had never tried cotton candy, or any candy for that matter, but since everyone else seemed to be enjoying it, it couldn't hurt. He hesitantly took a small bite of the delicate pink candy.

It was delicious. Credence had never had anything so good. He had to hold back a smile as it dissolved on his tongue. He was careful not to eat it too quickly, savoring every bite. Who knew when he'd have such luxuries again?

“Who's this?” A woman’s voice called from behind him. Credence startled.

Queenie’s face lit up. “Hi Teenie! This is Credence. He's Newt’s mystery man from yesterday night.” 

A woman with bobbed brown hair dressed in a smart pantsuit circled around the table to sit next to Queenie. She eyed Credence with soft amusement. “Nice to meet you. I'm Tina Goldstein, Queenie’s sister. I've heard good things about you.” She gave a small smile.

Credence felt a blush creep over his face. Newt’s mystery man? Had Newt talked about him after last night. What could he possibly have said? Tina said it was good things, but Credence couldn't fathom what that could mean.

He glanced at Newt and saw that his face was burning as well. He was blatantly avoiding eye contact with everyone, especially Credence. Queenie giggled. 

“Let's not tease them Teenie. Tell me about that new sword swallower you hired.” Queenie said, having mercy on them.

The group chatted and joked for a while in the easy way that friends do. Credence stayed quiet for the most part, content to listen to the others. He'd never learned how to keep a conversation going. He’d never had the chance. 

Eventually, they went their separate ways to finish up business or retire to bed. Credence was keenly aware of the time, not wanting to risk getting home after mother woke. But, even being cautious, he still had sometime to spend and was reluctant to leave.

“Would you like to, um, see my animals? Only if you want, of course. I realized that we never gave you a proper look around.” Newt blurted.

Credence could not think of a single reason to say no.

* * *

“Sorry about Queenie. She can be a bit… overwhelming.” Newt said as he led Credence through the maze of cages and boxes inside his tent. “Would you mind if I tended the animals while I showed you around? I haven't had a chance to feed them all for the night. You're welcome to help me, if you like.” Newt said with a forced, casual tone. Without Queenie’s bubbly presence to fill the silence, the two of them were left with only awkwardness and a strange tension between them.

Credence jerkily nodded his head. Newt nodded back, before turning and heading towards the supplies. Credence followed him as he went about his work, making sure all the animals were fed and cared for. Newt confidently explained each of the creatures they saw, getting lost in the comforting familiarity of the work. He seemed so much more relaxed among his creatures, cooing at them and treating them like his own children.

“Most of them are rescues from other circuses. Some of them had never even been allowed outside of their cages in their entire lives. I don't understand how someone could be so cruel.” Newt rambled as he stroked the trunk of a gigantic elephant, “I grew up around animals. My mother is a horse breeder, back in England. I always used to help around the barn.”

Credence finally found his voice. “You're from England?” He asked nonchalantly. He was desperate for anything he could learn about the other man, but the nervousness lodged in his chest warned him against being obvious.

“Ah, yes. It's a beautiful place. I came to America after university to study a few of the indigenous species, but one thing led to another and I ended up losing my funding. Tina found me and offered me a job as her animal tamer, and I've been here ever since.” He flashed Credence a smile, “I like it more than I expected to. I don't think I'd leave now even if Tina fired me. Come on, let's feed the cats.”

Credence admired the way his freckles crowded his face and the way his curls shone like fire in the lamplight. Credence was sure that Newt was the most handsome man in the world. Newt’s lips stretched into an excited grin as he knelt next to the cage of a very frightening-looking wildcat, calling it by sweet pet names.

This was dangerous. So, so dangerous. Not the animals, but Newt himself. Credence knew that if he let himself, he would stay there forever. He would let the rest of his life be easygoing laughter and the occasional brush of Newt’s shoulders. If he had to risk an eternity of damnation for that small comfort, then it was worth it. But it was all smoke and mirrors, not reality. Reality was a drafty church and tense silence and the sting of a belt. That was the life he had been given. That was the life he lived. This one night, this one magical night, was all he was allowed. 

Somehow, the thought of going back home was more painful than anything he'd ever felt before. Now that he had a taste of something better, something kinder, his old life seemed all the more dismal. Looking back, it all seemed to be shrouded in shadow, and he was only now seeing the light.

Newt glanced up at him and paused. A pensive look came over his face. He slowly reached down and started stroking the wildcat’s head.

“I know the animals seem frightening, but sometimes things that look threatening are really innocent. Fear is a powerful motivator. It can make us do all sorts of things we don't want to.” He scratched the cat’s ear and whispered, “They won't hurt you, Credence. And neither will I.”

Newt’s words hung heavy in his heart for all of the lonely walk home and well into the morning.

* * *

There was a persistent chill in the air, contradictory to the bright noonday sun bearing down on them. It was the kind of indecisive weather characteristic of mid spring. Credence chose to focus on the feeling of the sun and the breeze on his cheeks instead of his mother’s ranting. 

They were on the corner of the only two main roads in the sleepy town. It was a favorite spot of mother’s, the foot traffic meaning that her message could reach the highest number of people. 

For Credence, it meant that the highest number of people could gawk at him and think _“Oh what a strange boy, I bet he's up to no good”_. They all scurried by, keeping a wide berth. The few people who did stop were either the usual followers who actually believed in Mother's words or curious bystanders with time to kill. The one upside to that particular spot was that the small restaurant just down the road always gave off rich and tantalizing aromas. Credence could not begin to identify the smells; he had never been permitted to enter and had no idea what they served. When he was younger, he would imagine all sorts of delicious things that they could be serving. He learned quickly that imagining something better made Mother’s weak stew taste even worse. It was better not to dream.

Movement caught his eye from the direction of the restaurant. There, sitting at one of the few outside tables, was Newt, the Goldstein sisters, and Jacob. Queenie was trying hard to get Credence’s attention without making a spectacle of herself or alerting his mother. Credence gave them a timid smile, against his better judgment, which was returned with wide grins and little waves from the whole group.

Newt reached for a roll and, with a sleight of hand, made it disappear. Credence smiled a little wider at the sight, careful to keep his head tilted down and away from his mother. Jacob was amazed by the trick, and said something to Newt. Credence couldn't make out his words, but, judging by Tina’s amused expression and Newt’s slow repetition of the trick, Newt was trying to teach Jacob how to do it. And, judging by the way Jacob kept dropping the roll into his lunch, the lesson wasn't sticking.

He knew it was wrong to butt into their lives. He should go focus on what he was supposed to, listening to mother and keeping his head down. But still, it was easy to imagine himself sitting with them, laughing with them, being one of them. He'd known them for less than a day, and they were already the closest thing he had to friends.

For the first time in his life, Credence felt something stronger than his fear for Mother. He couldn't remember a time when he had been so happy. _Friends_. Friends who waved to him and goofed off and seemed genuinely excited to see him. It was odd in the best way. He blushed a little as Newt gave him another sunny grin. Where he had been a bit cold before, he was now warm. And maybe, just maybe, that was worth it. Even if it made his bland life seem even more unbearable, it was such a sweet dream.

Behind him, Mother glared at the colorful group across the street, never once faltering in her sermon.

**Author's Note:**

> Queenie is Credence's mom now. I don't make the rules.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! more suffering to come.


End file.
